


Dizzy on Dreams

by the3amnovelist



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/F, Fluff, One Shot Collection, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4310313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the3amnovelist/pseuds/the3amnovelist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short collection of Bechloe AU one-shots. (First started on ff.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Backseat Serenade

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: In no way do I own any of these characters or the PP Franchise!

A/N: Inspired by All Time Low's Backseat Serenade. p.s. reviews are well accepted, feel free to come over to my tumblr too ahahaha

Words: 1082

When Beca feels her best friend's lips crash against her, the taste of another one of Fat Amy's concoctions staining the tongue that invades her mouth, she doesn't pull back. She knows it's wrong, but she can't bring her palm to push the ginger away. Instead it cups the other girl's jawline and angles it so the kiss can be further executed. It's wrong, she tells herself as she struggles to remember her boyfriend's existence. But all Beca sees are her ginger locks and bright blue eyes before their lips meet again. She feels the fabric of Chloe's shirt under her fingertips as she traces the outline of the Bella's figure clumsily. It's wrong, so wrong. But the sound of Chloe moaning into her lips when she digs into the redhead's hips make it seem so right. So Beca blames it on the alcohol.

She doesn't remember leaving the party, but she remembers her skin flaming with heat at all the spots Chloe's fingers met, the length of her arms, her thighs and especially now the spaces between her fingers as she feels Chloe twine their digits together. Cold air slaps her hair out of her face as she is slammed against an unsteady surface. She was so close to complaining about how uncomfortable she felt, but her words come out as a cry of pleasure, lost in the lips on the redhead that is now pressing against her, sandwiching her between the surface and her body. She feels the taller girl's hands fumbling at the side of her waists but not even remotely close to be touching her. Beca starts to wonder if they were too drunk to even carry out any of this infidelity.

She lowers the line of sight to see Chloe trying to unlock the car door. Only then had she realized she was pressed against the door of a vehicle, just as the door swings open. Chloe pulls her by the waist, the midget's head barely missing the frame of the door as she tumbles in, pulling the door shut with the heel of her boots. It's wrong, she knows. But it's hard to remember you're actually dating someone else when Chloe Beale is looking at you with those light blue eyes, pupils dilated with lust and her hair flaming with passion. So she doesn't bother, letting herself indulge in the situation she had gotten into. Because best friends don't make out and touch each other in inappropriate places in the backseat of someone else's car, not even when said best friend had sung with you naked before you were even acquainted.

They toss around the leather seat, a heated mess, as they fight for dominance, their clothes now sticking to them with sweat, restricting their movements as it sticks them on to the leather seat of the car, holding them back for a few more seconds. Neither of the pair move to take the other's apparel off. Because they both know it's wrong. It's wrong and it's disastrous. It's the beginning of something they didn't need in their well established friendship. They are platonic, they are best friends, they are sisters, even if what they are doing at the moment, savoring the taste of each other, suggests otherwise.

But a platonic relationship is not what Chloe Beale wants, and so she does what the brunette had been hoping for the past hour of making out. She claims dominance and pulls Beca's shirt off, with much compliance from the receiving end. She takes in the collarbones on display, every inch of skin now uncovered. Toned stomach from cardio in the days of Aubrey's reign covered in sweat, underappreciated as Beca's fingers tangle in red mane, pulling her closer till their lips meet again. Chloe's hands move as her confidence grows. She feels her nails chip under the tough material of the jeans' button, but it doesn't stop her mission. What does though is a croak from the brunette under her.

"Stop, Chloe. God." Beca repeats through pants and it stuns Chloe out of her zone. Beca locks her by the waist before placing a smirk in place, one she uses as a defense mechanism. "It's just experimenting, right?" she questions, as the redhead's lips hang apart, the hue in her irises dimming as she nods in assurance.

Beca tries to ignore the tightness of her throat when Chloe climbs out of the car, away after their little 'experiment'. She swallows it because it's wrong and this label is what's keeping their friendship and her relationship safe. It's just college experimenting, it's normal, except it's not and Beca feels heat build underneath her eyelids when she rests her head against the seat, her body limp as her lips quiver. She forces herself to climb out of the vehicle that doesn't belong to her as she stalks back to the still ongoing party, drowning herself in whatever alcohol she could get her hands on.

It's wrong to feel sad after what should have been the best sex she had in her life. It's wrong that it was with her best friend. It's wrong that she couldn't seem to remember Jesse's face in the haze. But one thing that went right was the music playing in the background, pop punk agony giving her a reason to shout. Even though Beca Mitchell makes it a point to criticize pop punk bands, saying that their pop element made them "phonies" and that they weren't "the real deal". But right now Beca Mitchell doesn't care about whether there was a pop element to this song or in any song for that matter, as she shouts the lyrics to mend her heartbreak.

It's wrong, when she deliberately joins the dance floor to get away from her boyfriend and proceed to avoid him throughout the night. It's wrong when she stumbles through the Bellas' house the last, rapping against one Chloe Beale's room door and running up the stairs, hiding in a corner as she watches the ginger open the door in confusion. It's wrong when she falls asleep to the sight of the redhead, but it's dark and it's in her head, so she figures it won't matter when she forgets it in the morning.

But she doesn't. And it's wrong when this carries on over countless party nights. Both girls know, but both don't mention anything as they try to forget the roles they play outside of the backseats of other college kids' cars.


	2. Caffeine and Chained Bikes

Chloe isn't someone who gets mad easily, not even when the new barista at the local Starbucks get her order wrong. She does however, pay attention to the littlest of things, details no one would bother to focus on, like the barista's name. And how she spells Chloe's name wrong every time she visits.

Anyone would be a little unforgiving in the morning, especially after running a whole 6 miles. Even Chloe Beale. So by the third time her name is misspelled at the same outlet by the same barista, she makes it a point to smile and thank the barista, just to see the brunette's face fall at the end of her sentence.

"Thank you, Becky," she says with her usual grin, enjoying the confusion and indignance visible from the barista's expression.

"It's Beca," the brunette corrects, but Chloe just shakes her head and sing-songs something along the lines of "goodbye, Becky" before heading out the store with her order in hand.

-x-

By the sixth visit, the barista had managed to memorise Chloe's order, and instead of writing her name down on the cup, she scribbles her own name with an arrow pointing to it, cueing a "that's my name" as an explanation. Chloe is clearly amused, because the other girl seemed to be very bothered by her getting her name wrong.

"Well, Beca ," Chloe purposely mispronounces her name upon receiving her order, "I'm not sure this is how you introduce yourself to someone."

"It's a start," the barista offers after correcting her pronunciation, and seeing how sincere she was in getting Chloe to get her name right is enough to make the ginger break out in a laugh, forgetting her original grudge.

The effort is almost enough to kick start a conversation, but someone yells at Chloe to "stop holding the line" and at Beca to "get her ass back to work." So they both share a smile before parting ways.

-x-

It was a rest day, Chloe decided, because she didn't have it in her to clock 6 miles on foot today, not after the dancing bootcamp she had to go through as an understudy for the Broadway revival she had managed to get a part in. She had wanted to spend the day at home, but the constant buzzing in her head from fatigue nagged at her to get in her daily dose of caffeine, so Chloe finds herself on her bike, heading 6 miles down south to get her fix.

Beca wasn't there to take her order this time around, considering she'd come down on a bike (which was way faster than on foot), it probably wasn't time for the brunette's shift yet. The café is relatively empty, so for the first time, Chloe is able to find a seat. She fixes herself on a two seater by the window, enjoying her coffee as the morning crowd peaks in, filling the shop with life.

It starts raining outside and the heat locked in the space increases as many more suits and ties stay in to wait the rain out. Some run with their leather bags over their heads to their cars, a flurry of colours across the streets as it fills with umbrellas and other makeshift items. Amongst the mess, it doesn't take much effort for Chloe to locate Beca when she stumbles through the doors, because she's wet and in a rush to get behind the counter, not noticing Chloe seated by the side.

It takes awhile for the crowd to file out, and a little longer for Beca to join Chloe at her table. The brunette breaks the silence with a plate, loaded with chocolate cake, and cup of coffee. They don't talk, at least not until the cake is finished and Beca asks why Chloe was still in the shop after getting her order.

"I'm waiting for the rain to die down." Chloe answers just as the downpour lessens into a drizzle, and Beca raises an eyebrow as if on cue. So the only option was for the ginger to stumble out of her seat and mutter a goodbye as she makes her way back to her bike.

-x-

Except nothing really goes down well between the two. Chloe finds her bike chained to another when she tries to backpedal it out of its space, waving at Beca for help just as the lunch crowd stumbles into the café.

It strikes the barista that she was the one who chained her bike to Chloe's in her rush to get to work, but a blonde had made her way to the counter before Beca could get out, and she shoots Chloe an apologetic look as she beckons the ginger back in.

It takes Chloe two cups of coffee and a salad before the crowd dwindles down and Beca's shift is over.

-x-

Chloe stands over Beca as she tries to undo the chain binding their bikes together, and she kind of regrets skipping on cardio, looking at the mess she had gotten herself into. But she was Chloe Beale, and Chloe Beale didn't pass up any opportunities, so she introduces herself right after Beca's grunt of frustration.

"My name's Chloe," she starts, and Beca shoots her a look when she spells her name out, "just in case you don't get it the next time I order."

"I just learnt how to finally spell your name," the brunette deadpans, "yay." Her attitude is supposed to put Chloe off, but the redhead finds herself giggling at the other girl's response and Beca cracks a smile from her position on the floor.

"You should also learn how to undo your own bicycle chain," Chloe points out, and the brunette lets out a groan, but her smile is still intact and the atmosphere is still warm from Chloe's laughter.

-x-

"YES!" the barista hisses as she yanks the chains apart, but it quickly becomes a cuss word as she busts the front wheel of Chloe's bike in the process. The redhead frowns at her choice of vocabulary, and then later at the state of her own bike.

"I'm regretting ever making a trip down 6 miles from home just to get coffee." She blurts, and the brunette shoots her an apologetic look as she fumbles with the chains.

"Does that mean you'll stop coming?" Chloe doesn't answer, because she's not sure what to say either. She's still going to continue to do cardio in the morning, even after a crappy rest day, but she's not sure she'd want to stop by anymore when she's not on foot, especially not with a busted front wheel on her bike.

"I can take you home if you promise to continue visiting," Beca offers, her tone desperate at Chloe's lack of response and lip biting. She tugs at Chloe's fingers, and sighs in relief when she is met with a smirk and a pair of raised brows.

-x-

The air is cold against her skin when she makes sharp turns around the blocks to send Chloe home, but Beca feels her waist and the entire of her back heating up as her passenger wraps her arms around her and rests her head on her back. She feels funny inside out, like she's having a fever, except her head doesn't hurt and she's not sleepy at all.

"It's just so the café doesn't lose business because of me," Beca blurts, in reassurance to herself, and Chloe chuckles. And even after what she had said a few seconds earlier, the sound of Chloe's laughter is enough to make her wish that six miles was a tad bit longer, and that the trip doesn't end.

It's a weird feeling, the heat rushing to her face and how she can't find words when Chloe kisses her on the cheek and waves her goodbye. But it's a good kind of weird that makes Beca grin like an idiot, and the kind that she wouldn't mind feeling everyday.


	3. Alone Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I've got a ton of one shot ideas which I've decided to collate into one big story altogether. I've basically got one whole page of notes of ideas so yea. I'd probably write sequels or chapter-fics based on any of these one-shots but for now I have zero time so more one shots?

\+ "Do you got room for one more troubled soul?"

-x-

Beca constantly finds herself stumbling out of clubs after her gigs. She's used to the lifestyle – not one she had hoped for when she said she wanted to make music, but DJing and playing her mixes in clubs pays well so she doesn't complain. But going around mashing songs just doesn't add up to what she'd always looked forward to when she thought life after she moved to LA. She may be the hottest DJ in town, but she still crashes from the high of the crowd after, because she's not making music and this leaves her empty every night.

Another rejection sits on her phone screen as she starts the engine of her car. It's doesn't bring tears or disappointment like the first time she sees the same formatted response, but it does spark frustration. Beca feels her insides twist and clench as she grits her teeth, her knuckles turning white against the leather as her grip tightens.

-x-

Speeding down the highway doesn't help, and she hears the friction between wheels against the road as she slams the breaks, cursing when she sees a hint of a human being in front of her.

"It's fine if you have a death wish," Beca grunts as she steps out of the four-wheel, "but it'd be nice if you kept me out of it." She looks around the barren road before noticing the redhead standing well and unscratched in front of her, her eyes standing out in the dark.

"I was trying to hitch a ride," the girl answers, snapping Beca out of her trance and shifting her gaze in embarrassment. She sees tear stains across the ginger's face and purses her lips to keep herself from saying something sarcastic to rub salt to the wound before nodding and sticking a thumb back at her vehicle.

The corners of the girl's lips lift, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes, and Beca tries her best to ignore how the sight of that makes her uncomfortable and bothered.

-x-

"Where to?" she asks, a few miles down the road.

"Anywhere you'd take me," and a shrug of her shoulders are all Beca gets in response. So she just keeps her feet on the gas pedal till she runs out of track and is forced to make a turn out.

"Can I turn on the radio?" she hears her newly picked up passenger ask. Beca doesn't mind the radio normally, but tonight's different. Tonight, music reminds her of the dream she hasn't quite achieved after so long and her unworthiness, so Beca says no.

She hears the ginger humming to David Guetta a few minutes after, and she tries to hide the smile spreading across her face by pressing her lips tight against each other.

-x-

"Ginger," Beca calls as she navigates the vehicle out of the gas station.

"I've got a name," the stranger protests, but its met with a force grabbing the notebook out of her hands and a grunt of "and I've got a need named privacy." But it doesn't stop the ginger from singing the rest of the lyrics she'd seen and repeating the ones she'd sung before, and Beca doesn't mind, at least not as much as before, because it sounds better than the voice she's had in her head when she'd written it down.

"Chloe," a word foreign to the lyrics she'd jotted down, "that's my name." Beca nods in understanding that the girl was introducing herself, not singing, though it sounded like melody to her ears. She'd been fine not knowing, really, but still, the DJ finds herself repeating the name in her head countless times throughout the drive.

-x-

"Stop the car!" Chloe screeches, and Beca halts, just in time for the redhead to fling herself out of the vehicle, a can of beer they'd picked up at the gas station in hand. Beca takes that as a cue for her part as her chauffeur to end, but the door on her side swings open and she feels cool fingers finding her own and another palm slamming against her as she is pulled out of her car.

"The sun's about to rise," she can feel the redhead's breath, a gust of hot air wet against her ear lobe as she leans in to whisper before climbing onto the roof of the four-wheel and tugging Beca after her.

Beca doesn't enjoy body contact, but she doesn't complain when Chloe rests the weight on her shoulder as they watch the sunrise. The rays hurts her eyes, but it makes Chloe's shine so much brighter. Those irises are still dull, as eyelids loom over them, but captivating all the same. The peaceful silence settling over the two who carries stories they aren't quite ready to share just yet, lulls the red head to sleep.

Beca doesn't feel the need to cry over rejections, not anymore, so she finds herself comfortable with wiping away the disappointment of others. Maybe, just maybe, Beca thinks, as she rubs a thumb over the tear stains on the redhead's cheek, that this stallion has room for just one more troubled soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shameless call for reviews.


	4. Round and Round (On The Carousel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A carnival AU that doesn't quite have a definite ending, but you can tell they end up together, just leaving everything up to your imaginations, because things are better left unsaid, right? ;)

-x-

The carnival lights are blurry in the dark, but the atmosphere is warm and cosy as the place is littered with loving couples, families and friends. Children's laughter feel the air as they run over puddles drying from the downpour earlier. Amongst the happiness, Beca sticks out like a sore thumb as she ushers visitors in line into the ride, her face straight and rid of any expression. Her eyes scream annoyance as she lets a co-worker take over her shift.

Having found herself rid of duties, the brunette loiters the stone pavements as she waits for her next shift, enjoying the dying hype as the night grows and the crowd diminishes. She doesn't appreciate the cheesy arcade music in the background and the giggles erupting around her, but she does, however, find another lone ranger seated by the fountain with her back bent over.

It was out of character, but Beca takes pity on her, seeing how alone she seemed amongst the smiling faces of couples around her. She knows how it feels, not that she minds being alone, but she knows that not everyone enjoys solitude like she does, so she heads over and presses the soda she had been drinking against the cheek of the redhead.

"Wha-" the girl shoots up immediately at the touch of the cool aluminium, shocked at the contact. Her eyes land on the figure before her after she recovers from her initial shock, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

But Beca doesn't answer her unvoiced questions, instead she sits beside her and takes a sip, tipping the can towards the ginger like a microphone, a silent notion to ask her if she wants to talk. A small smile plays along the ginger's lips, it's kind of sad, the brunette notices, but she doesn't point that out. Instead, she just nods, urging the other on.

"Aubrey, my friend, agreed to come out with me tonight," she starts, and Beca takes another sip. "But she cancelled last minute because she has an essay to finish."

"I know it's stupid to get upset over this but, it makes me feel dispensable, you know?" Beca doesn't know how to answer, she should nod, except Beca doesn't have friends, let alone friends that ditch her for homework, so she has no clue what to say.

That's exactly what she plans to tell the other girl, but the sadness in those light blue eyes twist Beca's train of thoughts and she ends up asking, "which ride's your favorite?"

-x-

It's well over closing hours by now, but the light in the ginger's eyes roots Beca's feet where they are as she sends her on another round on the carousel, the other girl's squeals of excitement a reason to stay.

They don't stop till the girl she's come to learn is named Chloe feels better, which was 30 seconds before the power went out and the horse mannequins on poles slowed to a stop at the lack of electricity to fuel their movements.

-x-

"Climb over?" Chloe laughs in the face of the locked gates and Beca's answer, except the brunette was already halfway up the grills, and that's when the taller girl gets that she wasn't joking.

"Really? I'm wearing heels!" she exclaims as the midget lifts one leg over the top of the railing. The only answer she provides is an extension of her arms as she offers to help Chloe up the scale. The ginger doesn't really have any other choice, and her palms meet relatively cool ones as she struggles to scale the gates. She succeeds merely from the bull strength hauling her upwards, but Chloe still feels proud for having done something she's never succeeded with, in heels nonetheless.

She doesn't have time to recover though, as Beca jumps off the ledge and cocks an eyebrow at her, beckoning her to do the same, and Chloe finds herself in a bundle of nervous giggles again.

-x-

"I'll catch you," it's the second time the brunette has spoken that night, this time with outstretched arms, ready for the ginger's weight.

Chloe doesn't have a choice, so she shuts her eyes and pushes herself off, half-expecting the cold hard concrete to meet her flesh. But it doesn't, and she feels arms curl around her, letting her down after cushioning her fall.

It takes Chloe quite a while to recover, and even longer to notice that Beca had long waved her goodbye and was heading down the street, away. It may have only been a few hours and two sentences, but the ginger finds herself wanting to see the brunette once more, for reasons unknown.

That's how one Chloe Beale finds herself at the carnival every night after, and why a certain Beca Mitchell offers to man the carousel for every shift.


	5. Fireworks (That went off too soon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Prompted by lyrics from FOB's Fourth of July. It was supposed to be angsty and sad, but I had an ending hanging around my mind so yea. Because the remnants of burnt out fireworks are still flammable, so there's still a chance. This is kind of long enough to be a standalone, but I'll be putting this here since it's kind of AUish too so YEA. Leave reviews! Or just say hi, it'd motivate me and make me very very happy

-x-

\+ "fireworks that went off too soon."

There's a spark, there always was, when Chloe's fingers meet her skin. It sends her heart beating faster than it's supposed to. It makes the tips of her lips swing upwards, though she often tries to hide it by biting her lips. Chloe's soprano harmonizing to any track Beca plays when she's studying in the brunette's room is heavenly, almost a soundtrack to the DJ's dreams.

It becomes natural, the ginger rummaging through the stash of snacks under her bed halfway through a movie, she's stopped complaining after the fourth time it happens. The redhead's company is constant, and it's simple but comforting. Raps spilling from the shower brings chuckles out of the brunette's throat.

She doesn't remember when she became numb to that feeling. She doesn't address it, but she knows Chloe feels the same, because her eyes don't shine like they used to when they meet gazes halfway through another film Beca is forced to watch. Chloe's fingers don't intertwine with hers halfway through anymore.

They're still the same, except it the atmosphere is dry, and silence isn't comforting anymore. For once, Beca finds herself wishing for some sort of conversation instead of dry air hovering around them. It doesn't happen, and the routine carries on as if it's normal.

She shakes her head when Chloe asks her "what's wrong" during dinner, a lit candle in between their gazes. She doesn't want to admit that they've burned out, and were out of oxygen. She doesn't want to admit the best thing that's happened in her lifespan dead. So she avoids voicing it out, and she can see Chloe is doing the same too.

The ginger's voice no longer fills the stale air. Beats no longer bounce off the apartment. Everything in the space in tight and empty, and its inhabitants are struggling to find something, anything that would light them up again.

They don't. They face away into dreamless sleeps at night, the sheets seems to cover more than a few inches in the space between the two. They don't remember when they last shared a blanket, as two different colored quilts now spread evenly across the king sized bed.

Beca doesn't wake to Beyonce anymore, instead she gets up to stale coffee and cold breakfast, which she swallows before heading out to work. Chloe doesn't wake to warm arms around her waists anymore, instead she gets up by preparing breakfast, eating alone at the dining table while the other portion sits in front of her as company.

-x-

The brunette gets frustrated when her assistant serves her sweetened coffee. And she groans when the sugared caffeine hits her tongue. The first thought that came to mind was how Chloe would know she how she liked her coffee, black. It never occurs to her, however, that the coffee she drinks every morning still tastes the same as when it was served heated, that Chloe still remembers. She pegs it on the fact that Chloe was probably in a rush and didn't have time to serve anything other than black coffee.

Instead she writes, and produces, each note after the other, spelling out the past she barely remembers. It doesn't feel right when some renowned artiste sings those songs, it doesn't carry the turmoil inside of her, the need she feels to remember, to light up again. So she offers the artiste some other song from her folder and they agree eagerly. Beca's words end up dead flat on paper, unsung, unheard.

Chloe drives, and the radio isn't on. It hasn't been on for a long time, and there's an itch in her chords, she longs to sing. So she does, in the confinement and privacy of her car, she belts with the voice Beca longs to hear again. The stereo in the vehicle bursts to life once more, and the announcement of another nomination for some other award registers into the redhead's mind. She doesn't overwhelm with excitement and pride, like the first time she hears Beca's songs on the radio, instead she patiently waits for the next song to come on.

Another one of the brunette's productions is played, and it's an old single. Chloe smiles, because she knows the words to this one. How could she not? She had been the voice used for the demo. It sounds different, hearing someone else's voice singing the words she'd once held so close to her, as she whispers to Beca that she knows the DJ will make it big one day.

-x-

Beca doesn't come home one night, and the double bed is empty. The dining table carries dinner for her other half, as she lulls herself to sleep with red wine and TV. It's cold, and Chloe shivers as her eyelids grow heavier. This time, she does dream. She dreams of Beca's smile and the many mashups she'd received in the mixtapes Beca used to make for her.

She wakes up alone, the apartment untouched, but she still makes breakfast for two, because she'd long forgotten the portion for one. She still boils a double shot espresso, unsweetened before she leaves. The brunette stumbles, in ten minutes after Chloe leaves, a short time span, but just enough to miss the ginger.

This is the first time in a long while since breakfast is warm against her tongue, and Beca tastes scrambled eggs seasoned with just the right amount of black pepper and salt, and bacon crisp and salty against her teeth. The coffee is bitter, and scalding. This is enough to start a spark.

-x-

She scrambles to her studio, working on a mashup that would be close enough to deliver what she'd meant to say. But she doesn't find the right words and it throws her into frustration. Nothing's enough to convey what is boiling inside her. So she takes it upon herself to sing.

It's foreign, the feeling of standing behind the microphone. It's been a long time since she'd last sung, and the vibration in her throat as melodies tumble out is enough to get her lost in the world of performing once more. She grins, the adrenaline of being on stage with the Bellas, being on stage beside Chloe, washes over her, filling her with the feeling she'd long forgotten, and hadn't realized she need.

That night she speeds home, ignoring the shouts of her manager down the hallway, reminding her of the gig she was supposed to play later that night. "Cancel it," she had shouted before dashing down to the parking lot.

-x-

She plugs the thumbdrive into the sound system and plays it, Titanium streaming out first. The sudden beat tumbling from the system makes Chloe, who was in the midst of cooking, jump.

"Hey," Beca whispers, snaking her arms around the ginger from the back. It's a gesture that's foreign to the two now, and Chloe tenses under the touch. The DJ feels the muscles stiffen on her skin, and she sees for the first time, what the two of them had really become. It takes all of her courage to rest her head on the other woman's shoulder once more, nuzzling into the neck.

"Hey," the vibration of her voicebox is warm against the tip of Beca's nose, this sensation makes the brunette smile into the ginger's neck as she inhales. She drums her fingers against the other woman's hips as the song reaches its bridge, and she's overwhelmed when Chloe sings along.

Her voice hasn't changed, it still sounds the same as the voice that rings in her head when she writes. She feels Chloe's elbow against her rib as she serves dinner, just when the song slows to an end. A grin spreads across her face, but she soon cringes as her own voice fills the room.

She winces, but she forgets about how awful her voice sounds to her right now when she sees Chloe's eyes light up, the shade of blue as bright as it used to be.

That night, Chloe's fingers find hers, and her arms are back to where they belong. Both don't pay attention to the plot on the big screen, and they're back to where they started. It's old, but Beca doesn't mind. Because the silence that hangs in the air soothes her, and the gig she'd left behind would never compare to the fire burning inside her now.


End file.
